


The Great Bear

by learningthetrees



Category: Slow West (2015)
Genre: F/M, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:12:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5946916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/learningthetrees/pseuds/learningthetrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And now, looking at the stars reflected in his son's eyes, Silas started to believe the world might not be such a bad place after all.<br/>A one-shot companion piece to <i>Ho! for the West</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Bear

A cry split the dark, tranquil silence.

Silas’s eyes shot open at the sound. It was followed by a few shuddering sobs, and then a screeching wail. The child wouldn’t be ignored, that was for sure. In fact, Silas was certain the boy wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d woken up the whole household.

He glanced over at Rose beside him. Her dark hair was splayed out across the pillow, her eyes dancing beneath their lids, her lips parted slightly as her chest rose and fell in a comforting rhythm. It wasn’t a surprise to Silas that she didn’t wake — as a mother to three young children, her days were full and long, and being heavily pregnant with a fourth only exhausted her further. He touched his lips to her cheek in a light kiss and let her sleep, rolling out of bed and crossing the room to the cradle where little Andrew Jay lay. His soft, smooth face was growing redder with each yowl, tears glimmering on his cheeks.

“Shhh,” Silas cooed as he leaned over the cradle. The infant only kicked his legs and cried louder. Silas scooped him up against his chest, but being held by his father did nothing to quell the baby’s cries. Silas tried bouncing him and patting his back, but nothing seemed to work. He sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Eva or Jan awoke and he was tasked with putting three small children back to bed.

After retrieving a blanket from the cradle and tucking it around his son, Silas stepped outside. It was a clear night, the cool fingers of autumn reaching into the end of summer. Before too long, the leaves of Silver Ghost would turn copper and gold, and a chilly wind would whip against the small house all night. But for now, there was only a brisk reminder of things to come.

Silas stepped down from the porch and onto the grass. The night sky was deep and dark as velvet, dotted with stars. Andrew Jay’s cries grew softer, and Silas felt the baby stir against his shoulder. He looked over to see his son craning his neck, staring up at the starry sky. His eyes were wide, and he wore an expression that was recognizable even on his infant face: awe.

Silas couldn’t help but remember another boy who had been entranced by the constellations. It had been over a year since he’d met Jay, and yet Silas found that barely a day went by that he didn’t think of him. As time passed, Silas realized just how much he now owed to Jay. His home, his life with Rose, his son — none of it would have been possible if he hadn’t met Jay.

He was aware just how much of his life had been the product of chance: losing his parents, finding his way to the west, joining up with and then deserting Payne’s gang. All of the bad he’d seen and done had been a way to cope with the hand he’d been dealt. And when it all became too much, he’d numbed himself to that which made him human. Feeling.

It wasn’t until Jay died that feeling started to return. It was strange at first — after all those years, confronting his heart hadn’t been easy. But he knew what he felt, what he needed. And so, with Rose at his side, he’d ventured into that forgotten world.

All thanks to Jay.

And when he’d held his son for the very first time, still wet and new and screaming, Silas had wept. He was holding in his hands one of the only good, pure things he’d had a hand in. And he knew, deep down, that he didn’t deserve it.

After everything he’d done and the man he’d been, Silas didn’t deserve the life and love surrounding him. For some reason he still couldn’t fully fathom, Rose loved him and had given him a child. All at once, Silas had been struck with an intense, consuming fear. How could he — a man who had made his share of mistakes, had lost his way more times than he could count — raise a child?

And then his minutes-old son had opened his eyes — blue, like his mother’s — and looked at Silas with such a wise, plaintive gaze that his breath caught in his throat. Although he knew it was impossible, Silas felt he had seen those eyes before. They belonged to the boy who had brought Silas to everything he now had. The boy who, in some roundabout way, was responsible for the new life in Silas’s arms.

It had only taken a few moments for Rose, too, to recognize the glimpses of Jay in their son, and only a few moments more for them to include Jay’s name in their son’s. And by doing so, Silas hoped he was repaying some small part of his debt, making some small change towards being a better man in a fallen world.

And now, looking at the stars reflected in his son’s eyes, Silas started to believe the world might not be such a bad place after all. He wasn’t the same person he had once been. Rose had changed him. His children had changed him. And before all of that — before he’d ever met Rose and before Andrew Jay was even a possibility — Jay had changed him.

Silas saw things differently now. He saw the stars.

The door behind him opened and shut, and Silas turned to see Rose wrapping a coat around herself as she walked across the porch towards them. Her round belly preceded her, peeking out from the coat. “Is everything all right?” she asked in a whisper, her eyebrows knitted together in concern.

Silas nodded. On his shoulder, Andrew Jay was still and quiet, and he was all but sure the baby had fallen asleep. Rose ran a hand over their son’s head and pressed a kiss to his crown. Then she leaned against Silas and brought her lips to his, a warm, lazy kiss.

Silas could have thanked the stars for what he had, but he knew who was really responsible.

 _Thanks, kid_. _For everything_.


End file.
